


My Words Will Be Your Light To Carry You To Me

by Dresupi



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Era, Cousin Incest, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, F/M, Fade to Black, Ficlet Collection, Meet-Cute, Mild Smut, Modern Era, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Post - Game of Thrones (TV), Secret Relationship, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22559752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: A collection of Jonsa short fics I've been prompted. Various ratings and subject matter.None of the ficlets are connected unless otherwise noted.The first chapter is the table of contents.I will mark mature/explicit shorts with an *.These are all Modern AU unless otherwise noted.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56
Collections: Dresupi's Ficlet Collections





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SwedishFanFictionLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishFanFictionLover/gifts).



> Title from 'Winter Song' by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson.

  1. Table of Contents
  2. Stargazing on a cool night || for SwedishFanFictionLover
  3. Actual, sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag, camping || for SwedishFanFictionLover
  4. A large gust of wind blew all my papers out of my hands and I’m scrambling to pick them up before you try to help me. Please don’t judge me for what’s on these papers. || for manda-lore
  5. What I Wouldn't Do || for Anon
  6. *Getting warm together || for Anonymous




	2. Stargazing on a cool night || for SwedishFanFictionLover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Other tags: Secret relationship

Jon knew where she’d run off to. It was the same place she’d run off to when they’d been kids and Robb had been just this side of too mean, or if Arya had broken one of her dolls. 

The fact that she could still climb up there was impressive. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to, now that he was thinking about it. The branch was up so high in the tree. Jumping and twisting to flip oneself onto the limb was nothing when you didn’t have adult weight and muscles to contend with. 

He saw the thin trail of smoke first. And then the orange-glow of the end of her cigarette. Clove cigarettes, if his nose was correct. 

“I see you down there, Jon,” Sansa’s voice punctured the silence. “And I’m fine. I just needed a minute. She pushes all my buttons now.” 

“I’m told mothers tend to do that…” he replied. “Not that I’d know.” 

She must have tapped the ash, because orange flecks fell from the end of the cigarette. 

“Can I come up?” he asked. 

“Not sure, it was difficult for me, but you can try,” Sansa replied. 

He ended up having to use an alternate route to get there, but he soon huffed out a breath and sat on the branch beside her. It was lucky the tree was enormous, or it might have snapped with the weight of both of them. 

“Can I have some of that?” he asked, breathing hard and holding out his hand. 

“If you’re certain you won’t drop dead from it,” she laughed, handing him the cigarette. 

He inhaled the sweet smoke, the cloves popping slightly as he did. He let a thin stream of smoke trickle out of his mouth and dissipate in the night sky. 

“You know your mother only wants what’s best for you.” 

“And breaking up with Harry was best for everyone involved, believe me.” 

“Not for Catelyn Stark, if her silent treatment of you is to be believed.” 

Sansa laughed. “Harry Hardyng has so many lovers, I’ve lost count. Winter would come to the seven hells if I were to touch that mess with a ten-foot-pole. I’m not one of many, I’m one _in_ many.” 

Jon knew that all too well. 

“The marriage would have been a powerful one,” Jon replied. 

“Don’t even pretend to be on her side for one second, Jon Snow,” Sansa chided, reaching for the cigarette and taking a puff. “It doesn’t become you.” 

He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist to keep her snug against his side. Agreeing with Catelyn was never an in-character move for him, but if it made Sansa smile, he’d do anything. “What are you doing up here besides brooding?” 

“Looking at the stars,” she replied, allowing her head to fall to his shoulder. “Can’t see them in the city, can you?” 

He shook his head, “No you can’t.” 

Turning slightly, he felt her nose prodding his jaw. It was cold, much like the air around them, but Sansa never seemed bothered by cold. Especially when she was pressed against him. 

“You’re so warm, it’s like I hardly ever need to go indoors.” 

His skin tingled as her words hit like gentle warm puffs of air. 

“We’ll have to,” he reminded her. “Or your mother will come looking for you.” 

“Let her,” Sansa breathed. “It’s high time we told her what this was.” 

“Your mother will castrate me if she finds out now. She already didn’t care for me when I was friends with your brother. She’ll murder me if I’m to be her son-in-law instead of Harry Hardyng.” 

“No danger of that,” Sansa teased. “Seeing as you’ve made no promises or propositions to me that I’m aware of.” 

He smirked and turned towards her, finding her lips ready and waiting. 

One day, and soon. 


	3. Actual, sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag, camping || for SwedishFanFictionLover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn Prompts 2019
> 
> Other tags: Camping, Established Relationship

Sansa sat down stiffly on one of the logs situated in a semi-circle around the fire, wrapping her arms around her knees and hunkering down. 

“It’s not too late to give up. I’m sure there’s a very nice motor lodge nearby. With heat. And running water…” Jon reminded her. “If you’re too uncomfortable out here.” 

She shot him a dirty look, narrowing her eyes into slits before speaking. “You can stop being so… _you_ anytime, Jon.” 

He chuckled. “You’re the one who wanted to join me. I didn’t ask you to come along.” 

“So you don’t want me here?” she asked, arching a brow in that way she had, and Jon pretended not to be affected, busying himself with the sleeping bags. 

“Didn’t say that,” he replied. “Just was saying, if you wanted a break from all the sleeping on the ground… wanted something softer, you could… go rent a room for the night. You look a bit… _rough_ is all.” 

“Oh, I look ‘rough’, do I?” Sansa asked, her eyes flashing. “I’ve been in a car all day. And right now, it’s a couple degrees shy of freezing. Pray, forgive me, oh wild man o’the north, but I’m not a child any longer, my back is sore, and my fingers are cold. Plus, I just know I’ll have to be up all night scaring off the ‘bears’ for you,” she snickered a little, holding her hands out towards the blaze. 

Jon pressed his lips together and reached for the sleeping bag, unzipping the first and then the second in order to connect them into one so they could share. “That was _one_ time, Sansa…” 

“It wasn’t even a bear,” she countered with a laugh. “It was a drunk guy who was lost.” 

“ _One_ time,” he repeated, sighing heavily as he zipped the two sleeping bags together. 

“He was really nice, actually. Gave me some ale in exchange for directions.” 

“Enough.” Jon reached for the pillows, plumping them a bit more than was strictly necessary, so he was caught off guard when Sansa snatched hers away and pulled him close, kissing the argument right out of him. 


	4. A large gust of wind blew all my papers out of my hands and I’m scrambling to pick them up before you try to help me. Please don’t judge me for what’s on these papers. || for manda-lore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December Trope Prompts 2018
> 
> Other tags: Embarrassment, Meet-Cute

Sansa swore under her breath as the gust of wind blew every single one of the loose-leaf papers from the folder in her hand. She wanted to curse the author who refused to bind their manuscript, but it was really her own fault for not putting them in her bag before venturing outside.

As luck would have it, the gust of wind didn’t scatter the papers, simply dumped them out on the sidewalk. 

She knelt to scoop them up, thanking the gods for small favors and page numbers, when a second someone knelt down beside her. 

“Here, let me help you…” said a deep voice. 

She turned slightly, looking up into the eyes of a _very_ attractive man and immediately wishing the sidewalk would just open up and swallow her up. Curse her decision to work for a romance publisher. 

Of _course,_ a completely gorgeous someone would happen upon her just as she dropped the manuscript for one of the most racy romances she’d ever edited. 

“I can manage, thanks anyway…” She reached ahead of him, wrinkling several sheets of paper in the process. 

“Nonsense. Let me–” he stopped talking abruptly, his face blanching as he undoubtedly saw what was written on the sheet in his hand. "Oh. Wow.“ 

She snatched it from him. "I told you, I’ve got this handled…” She smashed the rest of the papers into the manila folder and glanced around quickly to be sure she hadn’t dropped any. 

“Didn’t peg you for the type to write _those_ kinds of books…”

She jammed the whole business into her messenger bag, trying to hide her blush. "Yes well. I don’t. I edit them. What of it?“ 

He shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose…” He jammed his hands into his pockets and stood there for a moment, staring down at the ground before bidding her goodbye. 

“What’s your name?” she called after him.

“Jon… Snow,” he replied. “Why?” 

“Well, I’m off to edit this _romantic_ prose, I’ll need a name to suggest to the author for one of her heroes…” She shrugged a little. 

He blushed a deep crimson. "I doubt I’d be believable as a romantic hero.“ 

"I’m the expert, so I’ll be the judge of that, Mr. Snow. I’m Sansa, by the way.” She extended her hand and he took it. 

“Sansa. Well, I think you’d need more than a chance encounter to deem me worthy of a heroic namesake.” 

“You took the words right out of my mouth. How about coffee on Thursday?”

He nodded. "Okay.“ 

"Okay? I hope I’m not twisting your arm, Mr. Snow.”

“You’re not. And you can call me Jon.”


	5. What I Wouldn't Do || for Anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **_Song Prompts 2020_ **
> 
> What I Wouldn't Do - A Fine Frenzy
> 
> Other tags: Canon Divergent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent, Post - Game of Thrones (TV), Fade to Black
> 
> I don't usually write canon-era for this fandom, but that's where my muse went. Hope you like it! If you don't, I don't care! XPXPXP

Sansa never asked questions when he appeared in this way. 

And it _always_ was an appearance. There was no warning. One moment, he wasn’t there, and then suddenly, he was. He had Ghost in tow and was very nearly dead on his feet from the trip. 

Frost stuck in his hair and beard, skin chapped by the wind. His eyes shone darker than the night. 

If the other inhabitants of Winterfell noticed or even cared whether or not Jon Snow of the Night’s Watch stole away from Castle Black now and again to visit his sister-turned-cousin-turned something else entirely, then they never let on. 

He’d stopped sending for her at the front door and simply came to her now. Knocking on the door to her chambers and waiting for her response. 

Sansa didn’t mind. This was where he belonged. Not at Castle Black. Not on the Iron Throne. Not beside that dead Dragon queen. 

Here. At Winterfell. With her. 

_In her bed_. 

Upon this occasion, there was no difference. 

The snow hadn’t fully had time to melt from his furs when he shrugged them to the floor and she brought her warm hands to his jerkin, stiff with cold. The chill of the night kept his hands numb and it was just easier if he let her undress him. It had taken many moons of fraught tugging and searing kisses for him to accept this truth, but he could still give her the kisses while she worked at the straps and ties. 

But once she had the majority of his clothing shed to the floor, he trailed icy fingers down her bare arms, smirking a little when gooseflesh erupted. 

“Too cold for you, Sansa?” 

“Never…” she insisted, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and pulling it to her bosom, hissing when he splayed his fingers, cupping one of her breasts and surging forward to kiss her like a man starved. 

And he was starved in this respect. 

“I’ll have to stop this,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. She wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her or himself, but neither of them wanted to move away once they came together, so they stayed there, mumbled against her skin. “Once your brother demands that you marry.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “No one will demand that I do anything ever again. Bran knows better.” 

“How will you ensure an heir? You’ll need two. One for the Iron Throne, and one for the North…” 

Sansa kissed him again, dragging her teeth along his bottom lip and forcing a soft moan from him. “Hmm, I wonder…” 

“Sansa… if we… they’d be bastards.” 

“Who would mind?” she asked. “The Queen of the North is an Ice Bitch, why shouldn’t she bear Children of Winter?” 

“Don’t say that… you’ll find a good man and--” 

She cut him off, pressing her fingers to his lips and leaning away from him. “I’ve found a good man. It’s not my fault he took up the Black. Again.” 

“I’m not a good man,” he replied, stepping closer and hauling her up on his front with surprising strength given the distance he’d just traveled. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve taken lives. It’s why I can’t marry you, to begin with.” 

“You’re good to _me_ ,” she reminded him and he paused at the bottom of the bed, hands under her thighs as he looked into her eyes. A thin ring of blue encircled the black in the center. “Everyone makes mistakes. And no one would consider your children bastards, Jon Snow.” 

He exhaled and placed one knee on the bed, tipping her back and nearly collapsing on top of her in the process. 

“Sansa, you give me far too much credit.” 

“No, if anything, I don’t give you enough, or I’d have undressed _myself_ as well as you,” she arched an eyebrow coyly and Jon couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. 

“That is an oversight, I agree… seeing as I am now on top of you and loathe to move, I suppose I’ll have to make do.” He ran his hand from her thigh to her waist, tracing the curves of her body. 

“Oh, I can see how much work that will be,” she quipped. “You are so put upon, Jon, how will you bear it?” 

“I can bear any inequity if I can bear it at your side.” The hem of her shift was already rucked up around her hips, but Jon pushed it up further, his now much warmer fingers trailing down over her hip and finally between her thighs. “Now, let’s see how good I can be to you, my queen. I suppose I’ll have to kneel first, won’t I?” 

He was teasing her, she knew that, but as Sansa pushed up on her elbows, she could scarcely catch her breath. “I suppose you will, yes…” 

Jon grinned almost smugly as he moved down further, kissing along her torso and hiking both of her legs over his shoulders. He pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs. “Not to worry, my Lady… I am ever the willing supplicant when it comes to you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want a song prompt of your own? Fill out [this form](https://forms.gle/SrpHiyi34GLkSGaC8).


	6. *Getting warm together || for Anonymous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _****_ ****
> 
> **_Winter Prompts 2020_ **
> 
> **__**
> 
> Other tags: Mild Smut, Canon Era

“Did you catch another chill?” Sansa asked, pulling her dressing gown around her body as she stood there in the doorway of her chambers.

Jon swallowed thickly. He hadn’t. Everyone knew Winterfell was warm due to the hot springs.

But it was an excuse. An excuse to visit her after dark.

“Thought you might have,” he returned, keeping his voice low.

Sansa’s eyebrows arched. “Now that you mention it…” She stepped back from the doorway to allow him entrance.

He was on her before she could even get the door closed and latched properly.

“ _Jon_ ,” she giggled, reaching around him to latch the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, finding her lips and kissing them gently, even though his hands were pushing her dressing gown off her shoulders. Anything to get at her skin quicker.

“What for?” she asked, sliding her hands up under his tunic and pushing it up and over his head.

“For not leaving you alone,” he answered.

“I don’t wish to be left alone. At least not by you,” Sansa assured him as he knelt in front of her, coaxing one of her bare legs up over his shoulder as he buried his face in her quim. 

She certainly was warm. Although, he wasn’t certain that anyone would believe that was the sole reason he was here with his head between her legs.

He ran his tongue up her slit and she gasped out his name.

No, it was that. The way his name sounded on her lips when he got his mouth on her. When he got her to peak.

It was addicting, that.

“Are you warm now?” Sansa asked, chuckling a bit as she grasped his hair to keep her balance on one leg.

“Very.”.


End file.
